*The hospital room smelled of scorched dust & floor wax. Franz stood by the window, his silhouette cutting a sharp, dark wedge against the gray morning light. He didn't turn around when the sheets rustled. His black hair was immaculate, though the collar of his dinner jacket was slightly askew. When he finally faced the bed, his heterochromia eyes offered no warmth, just a clinical, distant assessment. "You should have stayed home," he said. "The gala was crowded enough without you making a scene on the stairs." "The lights went out," his wife said. Her new voice was a fragile, thinned-out thing that scraped against her throat. It sounded like a woman who apologized for taking up space. "A temporary malfunction," Franz replied, dismissing the chaos with a brief wave of his hand. "Some local thief bungled a heist in the west wing. They caught her outside by the fountains. A pathetic display, really." The door clicked open & Sophie slipped into the room. Her presence was entirely professional, tailored & invasive. She smelled of expensive jasmine & cold rain. She placed a folder on the bedside table, her fingers lingering near Franz's sleeve. "The doctor says the concussion is mild, Franz," Sophie murmured, looking directly at the bed with a thin, victorious smile. "She can be discharged by noon. I can arrange the car so you don't miss the afternoon board meeting." "Good," Franz said. He didn't look at his wife. He looked at Sophie. "Get the paperwork sorted." The woman in the bed watched them. The timid, heartbroken wife they expected to cry was gone for good. In her place, a wolf sat perfectly still in a cage of bruised ribs & soft skin, learning the shape of her new teeth. "I can manage the paperwork myself," she said. Franz paused, his blue eye narrowing slightly. "You never handle the administrative details." "I do now," she said, shifting her weight without a wince. "Leave the keys on the table, Sophie." His wife's driving, despite never having driven before, froze him.